By Boredom
by SSSP-shhh
Summary: Kida is looking through an old yearbook and sees a familiar face.


**Hey guys, it's M! Here is 11/30's piece of writing up and to go. This was supposed to be for the DRRR! kink meme. The prompt was:**

_**Any pairing. Nostalgia. Getting sentimental while looking through an old yearbook.**_

**So I was like, whoo, I can write some Kizaya! And it started off all sweet and fluffy and nostalgic and then... angst happened, because apparently I can't write this pairing without emotionally torturing Kida. So, I'm sorry guys. Less nostalgia, and a lot more angst. But it's done, and it's longer than the other stuff I've been writing recently, so whoo!**

**Read and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Torturing Kida is not the point of DRRR! Damn...**

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><p>Kida curled his legs under him, rubbing his cheek on the soft sofa cushion. Some silly anime played on his scratchy TV screen as he pulled the yellow, fuzzy blanket tighter around him. He flipped leisurely through the heavy, battered, brown book nestled against his stomach, tracing over the glossy, colored pictures with nail-bitten fingers. Particular red-hued eyes stared out at him with a smirk he was all too familiar with.<p>

The door to his apartment clicked open exactly at five. Kida didn't bother moving, biting on the ends of his blonde hair as he studied the photographs with a contemplative scrutiny. Footsteps rang out behind him as a hand reached forward to grasp his chin. Amber eyes rose from their observation to meet the same slanted eyes he'd been examining in print.

"What have we here, Masaomi?" Izaya smiled, mouth closed, as he ran his hands along the book. "Are you stalking me?"

"No." Not even bothering to be offended, Kida jerked away. "I had to clean out the yearbook section of the library today. And I found this and decided to borrow it." glancing back down at the picture, he frowned. "You look the same."

Izaya's chin came to rest on his shoulder, arms wrapping around the boy like chains. "I believe that was right after I met Shizzy. If you want to see me looking _different,_you're going to have to go further back."

Tilting his head to the side, Kida ignored the arms around him and shut the book with an indecisive noise. "I'm not sure I believe you. I think you always looked this way. You probably wore that hideous furry jacket thing as a baby."

Snickering, the older male tugged the yearbook out of Kida's grip. "That would be a sight." Pages fluttered as he flipped through the book. "Why, look. Baby pictures. You picked my graduating year."

Kida shot up from the sofa, yellow blanket falling to the ground. "What? I want to see!"

"Mmm." Izaya hummed off key, easily keeping the prize out of the high schooler's grasp. "Shizzy as a brown-haired toddler... Kadota without that silly thing on his head... Ah, there I am. A perfect angel."

Kida contemplated jumping the other, but figured Izaya would just be difficult and move. "Show me. I sincerely doubt that."

Dark red gleamed with sadistic pleasure. "Beg."

The abrupt change of atmosphere, from almost playful to predatory, startled Kida into stumbling back. "W-what?"

The dark haired man stalked towards him. "If you want the book back, you'll get on your knees and beg. Otherwise, I might just lose it somewhere and I doubt your teacher will be pleased."

His hand slammed up to meet with his forehead. "Do you have to make _everything_ into some sort of perverted game?"

Izaya ran his thumb over Kida's pink lips, smiling smugly as they parted under his touch before jerking away. "I like to hear you pleading. It happens so rarely..."

"Because I have some pride!" Kida pulled away, stomping back to the couch. "Honestly. I feel bad for your parents. You must've been a pain in the ass to raise."

Almost as if they were attached by a red string, Izaya followed the younger man's path. "On the contrary, I was a dream child. Good grades, student council, number one in my school... No, I'd say my parents were rather pleased."

Kida snorted, eyes following the other's movements warily. "Wow... what happened?"

Fur raised as lean shoulders shrugged. "I got bored, I suppose. Now..." He planted himself in front of Kida. "Beg."

When weighing detention against his pride, pride won handily. "Nope." He popped the P, crossing his arms as he slouched on the couch. "I'll pass. Thanks for the offer."

"Really now." Rings scraped across his scalp as spidery hands ran through his hair, gripping it and pulling it back so Kida was looking up at the informant. "Was my offer not enticing enough for you?" The smile that ghosted across his face was more malicious than anything. "How about this: Beg, I'll return the yearbook _and_ I'll suck you off."

Kida pressed his back into the sofa, smacking the hand in his hair off. "Why the _hell_ would I want you anywhere near my dick? I _am_ sane."

"And also a teenager, with too many hormones and no girlfriend. You feel too guilty to tell a girl about your past, but you can't condone dating her without her knowing." Almost in slow motion, Izaya moved so he was hovering predatorily over Kida as he spoke. "Which leaves you with no options but your own hand. Now, I'm here, offering you something you'll never get in a million years otherwise. There is no commitment or other irritating complications, just a small little favor you have to do for me. And you're going to say no?" The smirk on Izaya's face was preemptively victorious, as if he'd already won. "I don't think so, Masaomi."

Blonde hair swung as he turned his head ot the side. "Don't call me that. We're not friends or close or anything."

"And yet, I have the key to your apartment!" Izaya chimed in a sing-song voice. "Which no else, not even your precious Mikado, has."

Growling, Kida kicked out at him. "That's from a long time ago. That has no relevance anymore." His eyes strayed again to the brown leather-bound book. "I just don't understand why _you_ can't understand how bizarre this is. People like you don't come to a high schooler's flat for a chat and a blow job. Especially if you aren't on the receiving end of it."

Izaya leaned in even closer, trapping Kida's legs and caging his head between darkly clothed arms. "But they might stop by to see a key gang leader. If you think I visit just anyone, you are sorely mistaken. And I came..." A knife flicked out to caress Kida's throat. "To hear you beg. Will this help you any?"

The knife did not phase Kida at all. His eyes locked defiantly with the other's. "I've got a better bargain for you."

"Oh?" Delighted at the turn of events, Izaya pulled out of Kida's personal space, falling back into the wooden kitchen chair to the right. "Don't tell me. To make you beg I have to plaster these very embarrassing baby pictures all over Ikebukuro."

"Not quite." Kida's chin rose as confidence surged through him. "I want you to move Saki. I want you to send her to a good mental hospital in the country where she can recover. And stop using her. Do that, and I'll beg all you want."

Lips curled upwards to reveal straight white teeth as Izaya threw back his head and laughed. Loud, mocking laugher that made Kida grit his teeth against the sound. Finally, he stopped, still smiling that terrible smile. "That's a lot to ask, Masaomi. You'll have to give me a little bit more if you want me to spend my money on _that_."

Kida flinched at the idea of 'more', but he needed this, otherwise the guilt would never leave. He couldn't let Saki down again. "What'd you want?"

Sliding his coat off, Izaya reached into one of his pockets to pull out a hand-held video recorder. "I'll give you a script of sorts, a kind of guideline for you to follow, that way you don't just sit there and stammer like an idiot. You'll let me tape it for posterity. And..." He paused, shadows catching his face eerily in the fluorescent lighting. "I want you to wear your yellow scarf."

There was rush of relief. He'd been so sure from the hungry look in the older man's eyes that he would have to be nude, or some such disgusting thing. Putting on the yellow scarf again was bad, but it could be much, much worse. But still... "Why? Why that? That's just weird."

"I have only a vague interest in making the high schooler Kida Masaomi beg me. I have a much higher level of interest in having Kida Masaomi, the leader and creator of the Yellow Scarves, beg me." Izaya held out a printed sheet of paper. "Your directions."

Mouth dry as the reality of what was happening set in, Kida pinched the corners of the paper. "That's why you decided to come over today. You had this all planned. That's why you told me you were visiting and to not have anyone over. You _planned_ this."

"Obviously." Izaya did not look at all perturbed by Kida's realization. Instead, he stood, walking leisurely over to the kitchen cabinet that stored all the reminders of his old life. Mesmerized, Kida watched as Izaya drew out the worn yellow scarf. No one else had ever touched it but him before. It made him feel strangely naked as sure hands wound the fabric tight around his neck.

Reaching up to feel the coarse, woven threads, Kida shook his head. "Why go to all this effort?"

Izaya picked up the video camcorder, flicking a switch so a green light came on. "I was bored. Now get to it."

Fisting his hands in his jeans, Kida took a deep breath. This was for Saki. He swallowed his pride. "Izaya..." The words on the paper before him were meaningless. His brain was fuzzy with the mahogany gaze fixed on him. "Please, Izaya, I'll do anything..." All he had to do for inspiration was think back to what he would've said if he could've gotten Izaya on the phone that night. "Please. I know I'm not worth it, but I'm _begging_ you. I'll do anything, be anything, if you'll just help her."

He tried not to see as Izaya rubbed himself through his jeans, no doubt aroused by the image of Kida so submissive and willing before him. "You can do anything to me. Stick me in whatever bat-shit games you want and I'll play. Just please, leave her out of it. Please..."

"Keep going," the informant rasped, eyes half-lidded in lust. "You're not quite done yet."

Swallowing, Kida pleaded, "Please. I'm begging you. I don't know what more to do. If you want me on my knees groveling, I'll do it. I'll stay like that forever, beg you until my voice is raw, but just _please_-"

His voice cut off as Izaya tossed his head back, dark hair glistening as he moaned in wanton abandon. Kida's gaze remained fixated on the sinuous convulsions of the other man as he came. He rubbed his hands on his light wash jeans, feeling unexpectedly dirty. Even though he hadn't put one hand on Izaya, or vice versa, his words had made this happen. And he knew exactly what use the video tape would go to.

For someone who'd just cum in his pants, Izaya was remarkably smug. "Well done, Masaomi. I do believe you might have a talent for that."

"Shut up." The scarf was whipped off in a moment and buried under his sofa cushions. "So you'll do it? Help Saki, that is. Like you promised?"

"I don't believe the word 'promise' was ever used," Izaya murmured, stowing away the video camera with the care normally afforded to a precious gem. He waved Kida down before he could protest. "Don't worry your pretty little head. Saki is of little to no use to me anymore anyways. Ridding myself of her is no great trial to me."

Kida slumped over in relief. "Glad to know it doesn't trouble _you_."

"One last thing." He had no time to resist as Izaya lifted his head and pressed their lips together.

It wasn't soft. In fact, Izaya's lips were not silky, velvety, or in anyway smooth against his own. It was hard and commanding, forceful as he was pressed back against the sofa, once more caught in the most deadly of traps. Kida pushed weakly against the man assaulting him but to no avail. It would end when Izaya decided and he was trapped.

He only realized he had closed his eyes when they parted. Izaya's leaving smirk was burned in his mind. "Until next time, Kida Masaomi."

Kida sat frozen as the yearbook fell to the floor in Izaya's wake, falling open to the very page he'd been previously examining. He stared at the seemingly innocent eyes.

Boredom? That couldn't be it.

"Why?"

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><p><strong>I hope I am not the only person disturbed by this. Because I am disturbed by this... Eeurgh...<strong>

**I hope you enjoyed, thank you for reading and please review!**


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